


Tumblr Ficlets I

by eden22



Series: Ficlets [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eden22/pseuds/eden22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my tumblr prompt fills because someone asked me to. All chapters labelled with pairing for easy searching.</p><p>[1] Imagine Bucky and Steve going out on a lunch date together where they see two teenagers, whom are just so much like themselves being harassed for being romantically involved together. And they step up to protect and help them from the harasser. (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[2] Do you think steve does the c evans left boob grab to the rest of the team? (Sam/Steve)</p><p>[3] Could you write a fic of Bucky teaching skinny Steve how to kiss? (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[4] "I'm so cold"? (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[5] stucky with animals? (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[6] Person A of your OTP is in a horrible accident and after coming to and realizing the extent of their injuries uses their last few precious minutes to call Person B. (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[7] A little kid couldn't care less about like Steve and Tony but is obsessed with the "less popular" Avengers? (Clint Barton)</p><p>[8] Steve's reaction to the events in [6]. (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[9] "stucky having a kid and losing said kid in a ball pit" prompt (Steve/Bucky)</p><p>[10] "Person A breaks their arm really badly and Person B mother hens them" (Steve/Bucky)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When We Were Young (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Imagine Bucky and Steve going out on a lunch date together where they see two teenagers, whom are just so much like themselves being harassed for being romantically involved together. And they step up to protect and help them from the harasser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> homophobia cw

Steve flicked through the menu, running his eyes curiously down the list of mains. 

“I dunno Buck, what are you getting?”

He looked up from the menu to see that Bucky was not paying any attention to Steve. Instead he was staring distractedly to the side. 

“Buck…?” Steve asked, following Bucky’s gaze to the left, where it landed on two teenagers the next table over. He frowned when he took in how tense the teenagers looked, holding hands and staring up at a woman who was glaring down at them. Before he could figure out what was going on his attention was drawn back to his own table by the squeal of a chair being pushed back. He turned to see Bucky standing, face now a mask of anger as he headed towards the other diners. Steve followed him without hesitation, arriving at the table shortly after Bucky, just in time to catch the tail end of what the woman was saying to the two teenagers. 

“…no shame? There are families here! Do your parents know about this?” Steve glanced from the woman to the two teenagers, noting the way the one girl, long black hair hanging in thin braids looked close to tears, and how the other girl’s brown eyes were narrowed, face twisted in a scowl under her headscarf as she listened to the woman’s words. 

“Excuse me,” Bucky’s words were halting but full of anger, and Steve decided to let Bucky take this one. Buck still wasn’t much for talking, but he obviously wanted to speak in this case, and Steve wasn’t about to step on that. The woman looked up from the two teenagers, who also turned. Similar pained expressions crossed their face as they took in the sight of Steve and Bucky, and Steve felt a drop in the pit of his stomach when he realized that they expected them to back up the woman. 

“Look,” the one girl spoke before Bucky could, “whatever, it’s fine, we’ll leave.” The other girl blinked, all of her focus obviously going into not crying, though her fingertips were white with how hard she was gripping her… (girlfriend? Steve didn’t want to presume)’s hand. 

“No,” Bucky said, voice firm, and the girls looked up in surprise. He gave them a small smile before looking back up at the woman. “You shouldn’t leave.”

“This has nothing to do with you.” The woman snapped, now glaring at Steve and Bucky, and Steve was thankful her hateful glare was no longer focused on the two young women. “It’s obscene, and inappropriate.” 

“Two young people in love is obscene to you?” Bucky remarked, voice deceptively mild before he turned his gaze to the two in question. “Sorry, I don’t want to presume, are you two dating?” The girls exchanged a wide eyed glance before the girl wearing the hijab spoke, voice coloured with confusion. 

“Yes? I mean-” she glanced back at the other girl before back up at Steve and Bucky, her eyes flicking nervously between the two of them even as she straightened her back and firmed her voice, “yes. We’re girlfriends.” Bucky smiled at her, and she gave him a small, hesitant smile in return before he returned his attention to the woman, who was now fuming at being ignored. 

“Listen here-” she started, but didn’t get any further before Bucky, voice now filled with the anger that Steve knew had been there all along spoke, and the woman took an involuntary step back at the force of the glare now being levelled at her. 

“No, you listen. Your bigotry has no place here. There are families here. You are the thing that does not belong.” The woman was now staring at Bucky, mouth open as her face flushed red. 

“You-you can’t just-” Steve stepped up behind Bucky, adding his physical presence to Bucky’s, and watched as the woman’s eyes began darting frantically around, searching for backup. The other diners avoided her gaze, however, and she was left alone, flushed red in embarrassment and confusion. 

“I’ve never!” she finally spluttered, “you are all going to hell!” 

“Happily, ma’am.” Bucky replied with a smile that Steve knew from experience wasn’t anything close to friendly, and with a final, offended glare, the woman stomped off. Bucky slumped as soon as she was out of sight, moving behind Steve, clearly exhausted from the forceful interaction as he leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” Steve asked instead, looking down at the two girls, who were looking less confused now. The one girl offered Steve a watery smile, while the other grinned at him. 

“Thank you,” she said, peering around Steve to meet Bucky’s eyes, “both of you.” 

“Not a problem,” Steve felt a tug at his sleeve, “excuse us. Enjoy your lunch.” Turning around, he put his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, leaning in close. 

“Home?” he asked, and Bucky nodded. Steve sighed internally. One day they would be able to get lunch without it being interrupted by evil robots or homophobes. 

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/124535444053/imagine-bucky-and-steve-going-out-on-a-lunch-date)


	2. Boob Grab (Sam/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Do you think steve does the c evans left boob grab to the rest of the team?
> 
> Yes nonnie, yes I do.

The first time Steve does it to Sam the other man can only look at him incredulously, but Steve is too busy laughing to notice the look his friend is giving him. A couple days later Sam sees him do it to Natasha, who doesn’t even blink, and that’s when he figures that hey, Steve does it to everyone (he’s not going to pretend he isn’t a little bit disappointed, but hey). He wonders how she reacted the first time Steve did it, but doesn’t dare ask. Steve and Natasha’s friendship is weird anyways. 

Seeing him do it to Tony for the first time is hilarious, and Sam is so very thankful he was there to see it. It is possibly the only time he had ever seen the engineer at a loss for words. He managed to get a picture, Stark gaping and turning red, and sends it to Rhodes. Rhodes makes it his phone background, to Tony’s annoyance. 

Thor jovially grabs Steve right back, both men laughing loudly. 

Clint is utterly delighted every time Steve does it, and confessed to Sam that he tries to make Steve laugh around him as much as possible just so he’ll do it again (”bird-bro to bird-bro” Clint had said, and Sam wondered how this had become his life). 

When Steve does it to the fucking Winter Soldier three fucking weeks after the shrinks had shrugged and said “well, he’s probably not going to murder you all in your sleep” Sam nearly has an aneurysm, but the deadliest assassin in the world just gives Captain fucking America a fond smile and Sam officially gives up. He has to wonder if Steve is even aware of doing it. 

He finds out Steve is very much aware of it when they’re making out like teenagers, seventeen hours into a brutal mission in Siberia and Steve runs his hand down Sam’s chest to grip his right pectoral and breaks away to grin at Sam. 

“Finally get to find out what the other one feels like,” and Sam rolls his eyes and pulls Steve back to him. Honestly, he doesn’t know why he puts up with it (ten minutes later Steve gives him a very very good reason to put up with it).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/126190288063/do-you-think-steve-does-the-c-evans-left-boob-grab)


	3. Kiss the Boy (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could you write a fic of Bucky teaching skinny Steve how to kiss?

“Aw c’mon Stevie,” Bucky says, jostling his shoulder against Steve’s much smaller one, almost making his friend stumble as they picked their way up the stairs to their flat. “What was wrong with this one then?” Steve shrugged, feeling tension spooling in his spine the longer Bucky needled him. To say their double date that night had gone terribly would be an… understatement. Steve wasn’t sure what exactly Bucky had told the girls, but they had been none too impressed to see Steve (not that he could blame them). The one meant to be his date had spent the majority of the night ignoring Steve’s attempts at making friendly conversation, if not outright mocking him. Steve might have had less of a short temper when it came to dames, but he was no saint, and before long he found himself snapping right back at her. Before he knew it what had started as them sniping at each other had devolved to the two of them shouting at each other outside of the dance hall, and Bucky had ended up dragging him away. His friend had then spent the entire walk home teasing, cajoling, and mocking Steve in turn. 

He was relieved when they finally reached the door to their flat, way up on the fourth floor, both because it gave him a break from Bucky’s harassment while his friend searched his pocket for the key, and because, despite his best efforts, his breath had begun to pant out in a strained wheeze.

“I’m just saying,” Bucky said as he pushed open the door and the two friends made their way inside, “if you keep on like this you’re never going to get a dame to go steady with you.” The two kicked off their shoes and hung up their coats. Steve made to go to the bedroom, but was tugged back by Bucky, who pushed him over to the couch they had rescued from the curb and dragged upstairs one hot August afternoon. Steve allowed himself to be man-handled into a sitting position with a long-suffering sigh, meeting his friends eyes with resignation. For his part, Bucky was staring at Steve with eyes full of concern. 

“Seriously Stevie, what is it? Why you always got to do this?” And just like that the resignation was replaced with the hot burn of anger. 

“What do you mean?” Steve demanded, “What do I always do?” Bucky looked taken aback at his friend’s tone, but pushed onwards anyways. 

“You always push girls away and-” Steve snorted, harsh and loud. 

“I don’t do shit. Dames just ain’t interested in a skinny little punk like me. Hell Buck, everyone knows my reputation. Who the hell would be interested in a guy who can’t hold a steady job on account of always getting sick and who regularly gets the shit kicked out of him?” 

“Don’t say that!” Bucky snapped, looking surprised at his own vehemence, before continuing, “You’re a catch Steve, any gal’d be lucky to have you.” Steve sighed, suddenly tired again. 

“Nah Buck, but thanks anyways.” He tried to stand but was again stopped by Bucky, his arm crossing Steve’s chest to tug him back down. Steve looked down at the arm restraining him, and then back at Bucky, eyebrow raised pointedly. Bucky almost seemed to blush but didn’t move his arm. 

“It’s got to be something more than that Stevie. I know you ain’t actually got that low of an opinion of yourself.” Steve shook his head and Bucky hesitated, looking uncertain for the first time that evening. “Is it… is it because you ain’t got any experience?” Steve felt a blush rocket across his cheeks as his head jerked up to look at his friend, eyes wide. “That’s it, ain’t it?” Bucky continued encouraged even as Steve began shaking his head, “You shy Stevie? You worried you gonna disappoint a girl?” Steve began to deny it then paused. 

Bucky clearly wasn’t dropping this, and wasn’t going to accept that it was more complicated than any single thing that made the dates Buck set up for him fail over and over again. Hell, Steve wasn’t sure he even knew himself why it kept happening. Even the girls that he liked, that he got along with, he just didn’t feel anything like the pictures and books said he was supposed to feel. Sometimes in his darker, quieter moments Steve even wondered if there was something wrong with him. Sometimes Steve watched his best friend flit from girl to girl and wondered why it couldn’t just be as effortless for him as it was for Bucky.

“-some practice.” Steve snapped back into the present moment, quickly realizing he’d missed something important from the expectant and slightly nervous way Bucky was looking at him.

“What?” he asked dumbly. Bucky looked back at him, fondly exasperated. 

“Pay attention Stevie! I said, you just need some practice is all. Then you won’t need to worry when you do it with a dame for real, you’ll already know what you’re doing.” 

“Do what?” Steve asked, still totally lost. 

“Kissing!”

“Kissing who?”

“Dames!”

“How?”

“No you-” Bucky paused, dragging his hands down his face in exaggerated frustration, and Steve smiled at his friend, sly. Bucky laughed, chuffing him on the back of his head. 

“Punk.”

“Jerk.” They sat in companionable silence for a moment, and just as Steve was about to stand and suggest they go to bed, Bucky spoke again, quieter.

“I’m serious though Stevie.”

“’bout what?”

“’bout you practicing. You just gotta do it once and then you won’t be half as nervous when you do it for real.” Steve sighed. 

“But no matter what it is real Buck. ‘s not like I can just find some random dame to practice kissing with, I’ll still be really kissing her.” Bucky looked at him strangely.

“Not with a stranger stupid,” Bucky said. 

“Then who?” Bucky blinked at him owlishly. 

“With me.” Steve drew in air so sharply he was surprised he didn’t trigger an asthma attack.

“What?” He squeaked. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You really weren’t listening to a word I was saying were you punk? I said, if you practice kissing with me, it won’t matter any because we’re pals, and you won’t have to worry about me makin’ fun or telling all my friends or nuthin’.” Steve blinked at his friend. He couldn’t be serious. But he was sitting there, eyes wide and sincere as he stared Steve down.

“Okay,” Steve said, and shit, he hadn’t meant to say that, had he?

“Okay,” Bucky said, a satisfied smirk crawling across his lips. “Okay,” he repeated, shifting so he was facing Steve more directly, one leg pulled up on the couch between them and Steve’s throat was suddenly very dry. He swallowed with a click as Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, Steve’s eyes tracking the movement and then watching as his mouth curled into a smaller, more secret smile. 

“C’mere,” Bucky said, reaching out and hooking a hand behind Steve’s head, tugging on the back of his neck. “Just… relax,” was all the advice he gave and then he was tilting his head and his lips were meeting Steve’s. Bucky’s lips were warm and slightly damp with spit, and they caught at Steve’s own dry skin as they pressed together in a chaste kiss. Steve wasn’t sure what to do and so he just sat there. Bucky pulled back a bit, huffing out a laugh. Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at bein’ made fun of, not with the growing roar of his heartbeat in his ears filling his whole head.

“Fuck Stevie,” Bucky’s voice was rough and made Steve jump, “‘s like kissing a rock. Loosen up a bit pal,” and then he was tugging them back together. This time Steve tried to let his lips move against Bucky’s, mimicking Bucky’s movements and he felt rather than heard his friend’s approving hum. He didn’t know how long they kissed like that, chaste and slow before he began to feel impatient. For what though, he wasn’t quite sure. He let his mouth fall open a bit just as Bucky’s lips swept across his, and he nipped at Bucky’s lower lip. Bucky pulled back abruptly and both men stared at each other, Steve suddenly worried he’d taken it too far. 

“Jesus Steve,” Bucky whispered and Steve opened his mouth to scold him for his blasphemy. Before he could get a word out though Bucky’s mouth was back on his, and his friend was biting at his lip, drawing it into his own mouth and licking at it and all Steve could do was gasp and hold on for the ride. He realized that as some point his own hands had moved from being tightly clenched fists in his lap and were now buried in Bucky’s soft dark hair, tugging his friends head as he chased his mouth. 

At the first lick of Bucky’s tongue into his own mouth, Steve couldn’t help put jerk back again. He only had time to note the way Bucky’s eyes were blown black and his mouth opened, probably to apologize or say he’d gotten carried away or… But Steve didn’t care about any of that, didn’t care to hear it, and before Bucky could speak he pulled him back down, letting himself slide down slightly on the couch while Bucky rocked forward to lean over top of him, thighs moving to bracket Steve’s legs as they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

Steve wasn’t sure how long they kept on kissing, long enough, he thought, that he should have grown long tired of it, but it was like he was an addict chasing after the taste of Bucky’s mouth and he just couldn’t get enough. Bucky was the one to finally break the kiss, when Steve’s breath grew harsh and jagged and the two men stayed like that, breathing each others air, forehead’s pressed together as Steve’s lungs found their equilibrium. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve said, eyes still closed, finally breaking the silence that had grown thick between them. Bucky hummed, and Steve opened his eyes to meet his friend’s, so close he could clearly read the concern and affection written in them. “Thanks for the lesson,” he said, smiling. Bucky’s eyes searched his own, before he finally broke into a wide grin. 

“Anytime punk,” he said, reaching a hand up to ruffle Steve’s hair, a gesture that somehow ended with him fondly pushing stray strands away from Steve’s eyes. 

“I might take you up on that,” Steve replied, and Bucky’s grin grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/130444804623/could-you-write-a-fic-of-bucky-teaching-skinny)


	4. So Cold (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> "I'm so cold" stucky? ❤️

Trauma was a strange thing. 

Steve always thought that he should have some sort of adverse reaction to the cold, to ice, to water. He’d been taking showers at SHIELD just fine after he’d woken up (and wow, of all the things the future had to offer, he thought unlimited hot water for showers might just be his favourite). And the showers had been fine (amazing) but the first time he went to swim in the pool in the gym, his stomach had been filled with nerves. After all, hot water in a spray was one thing, but a large pool full of cold water? 

The veritable army of therapists that SHIELD had shoved at him had assured him that it was normal, expected even, for him to have adverse reactions to things that might remind him of crashing the Valkyrie. But he was fine. He went for a swim, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms propelling him through the water, showered off, and went home. And he was fine. He was fine a month later when he dived from a quinjet into the Black Sea. He was fine when a mission took him to Siberia in the dead of winter. He was fine when the quinjet he and Barton were in was forced to make a crash landing in Peru.

So no, Steve didn’t have any problem with the cold, no matter what the therapists thought. He understood why they thought he would, hell he didn’t really understand why he didn’t. By all accounts anything to do with water, ice, and drowning ought to have an immediate, visceral affect upon him. But it didn’t. 

He was fine.

And then he had to go on a train. 

He threw up on Natasha’s boots, and spent the entire quinjet ride back shaking and shivering in the cargo bay, Natasha rubbing her hand in circles on his back and singing to him softly in Russian (he hadn’t been back on a train since). 

Bucky was a different story. 

It had taken such a long time for Bucky to be able to speak at all, to piece together strings of words, to relearn how to communicate wants and needs that Steve had become fluent in the language of Bucky’s body. Even after he had begun speaking, Steve remained hyperaware of Bucky’s body, and what it would tell that his voice would not.

The walk through the Park had been Sam’s idea, delivered to Steve with a wink and a nudge that had him rolling his eyes. Barton had signed something at Natasha behind him, and though Steve didn’t catch it all, he was pretty sure there had been something in there about ‘romance for old people’ and then some very obscene gestures. Natasha snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes again and went to bundle up himself and Bucky. 

It had started out well, both men wrapped in warm knits and big coats, strolling slowly down to the Park. It had stayed good through them buying hot chocolate, though people watching at the skating rink, though the fight that involved snowballs being thrown at speeds that would break something in anyone but the two of them. 

And then Bucky had pushed Steve into a snow bank, and, after he struggled back upright, Steve returned the favour. 

But Bucky didn’t get back up. 

Steve saw the way his limbs instantly went tense, muscles locking as he stared upwards, eyes as empty as the grey sky above them. Panic shot through Steve as he bent over, struggling to lift Bucky’s dead weight out of the snow bank, his gaze remaining vacant even as Steve managed to get him back on his feet, frantically brushing the snow off of him. 

“Buck? Bucky? Bucky, sweetheart, please, look at me,” Steve’s words were coming out fast, jumbled, frantic as he continued brushing his mittened hands over Bucky’s shoulders and arms. He had to bite down on a sigh of relief when Bucky finally turned his head slightly, gaze still disturbingly blank as he met Steve’s eyes. 

“I’m so cold,” he said, monotone, and Steve felt like he was going to throw up or cry. Maybe both. 

“I know sweetheart, I know, I’m so so sorry, let’s go home okay?” Bucky didn’t resist when Steve turned him around, guiding him back towards the Tower, but he also didn’t seem to be registering the string of reassurances and apologies falling from Steve’s mouth. While Steve made sure to keep his expression calm and reassuring, inside he was panicking, cursing himself for his carelessness. He should have known, should have known better. 

Back at the tower they went straight to their floor, Steve stripping the both of them as soon as they got inside, getting rid of the snowy and cold clothing and helping Bucky into his favourite fuzzy sweatpants and hoodie, stomach sinking at the pliant way Bucky let Steve dress him, blank and cold and terrifying. He clicked on the fireplace (which… yeah. the future) and left Bucky in front of it, wrapped in several blankets while he went to make some more hot chocolate. He almost started crying when he realized they were out of the mini marshmallows that Bucky loved, and had to spend several long minutes in the kitchen taking deep breaths and choking back his panic. 

When he came back, he let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding at the sight of Bucky turning his head as Steve entered the room, worry and fear clear in his no-longer-blank gaze. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Steve greeted him softly, handing him a cup and sliding into the nest of blankets next to him. Bucky accepted the cup with a sigh, staring into it as the two men soaked in the warmth coming from the fireplace and the mugs held in their hands. Bucky leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he finally said, voice soft. Steve pressed a kiss into his hair. They sat in silence until neither of them could feel the chill from outside lingering on any part of them.

“So,” Bucky said finally, with a grimace, “no snow.”

“No snow,” Steve repeated, nudging his shoulder against Bucky’s. Bucky sighed. 

“Add that to the list I guess,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131396752483/im-so-cold-stucky)


	5. Like a Zoo (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> stucky with animals?

The dog comes first. It was Sam’s suggestion, to look into therapy dogs (he lets Steve believe it’s just for Bucky, and exchanges a look with Natasha behind Steve’s back). The process is about as complicated as Steve expected, and less than a month later, they arrive home laden with bags of dog food, toys, a massive bed, and a chocolate lab named Pumpkin.

The next dog arrives through much more mysterious circumstances. 

It was Bucky, everyone knows it was Bucky, but he won’t admit to it, not even to Steve, insisting that he just came home one day to find the dog in their apartment. Jarvis can’t find any security footage of the animal being brought into the building and Tony about looses his mind trying to figure out how Barnes got it in, but in the end everyone just accepts the presence of the second dog, a sweet greyhound named Duchess. 

Pumpkin’s high energy meant that she often accompanied Steve on runs, while Duchess liked to sleep as much as Barnes and the two could often be found napping together. Both dogs were equally devoted to both of their owners however, and it became common for the employees at the Tower to spot Captain America and the Winter Soldier heading out together with their dogs for a day at the park. 

Liho is Natasha’s cat, technically, but after she dropped it off with an annoyed huff, a bunch of supplies, and no real explanation before disappearing off the face of the earth for four months, Steve and Bucky (and Pumpkin and Duchess) got used to having a cat around. So after Natasha took Liho back home with as little explanation as she dropped him off with, they found themselves at the pound, staring through the bars of a cage at a small, underfed black and white cat.

They name him Mulder and refuse to answer Tony’s questions about whether or not they understand that reference. 

(They do, of course they do, Bucky’s been forcing Steve through the biggest sci-fi marathon in human history as the two catch up on 70 years worth of film and television). 

After that, it all spirals a bit out of control and Clint ends up staring in shock the next time he stops by to watch Dog Cops with Barnes. Bucky’s curled up on the couch with Pumpkin and Duchess, Mulder a half-visible ball of fluff under the coffee table. There’s also now two aquariums on either side of the TV, one filled with water and a variety of brightly coloured fish, and the other holding a giant fucking snake. Clint definitely doesn’t let out a little yelp when he spots her.

“Aw, don’t worry”, Barnes says with a smirk, that fucker, “Peggy’s harmless. Mostly.”

“You named your snake after Steve’s ex-girlfriend?” Clint asks, dubious, and Bucky smiles like a shark.

“Trust me, it’s a compliment.”

Clint stays far away from the snake. 

(The fish are named Zola, Lukin, Pierce, and Schmidt. All of the Avengers know better than to touch that one with a ten-foot-pole).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131399417293/stucky-with-animals)


	6. The End of the Line (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Person A of your OTP is in a horrible accident and after coming to and realizing the extent of their injuries uses their last few precious minutes to call Person B. (stucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH**
> 
>  
> 
> no happy ending

Bucky looked down at the steel beam protruding from his chest with a kind of detached curiosity. He couldn’t really feel it. He knew was probably a bad sign, which… yeah. There was a metal beam bisecting his torso. Everything was a bad sign, from the gleam of the blood pouring across his uniform to the fact that he couldn’t feel anything below where the beam went through him. Probably had severed his spinal column then, he noted distantly. 

Sounds seemed to be fading in and out, or maybe that was him, the explosions and screams of battle terrifyingly loud one moment, distant and muffled the next. It took all of his concentration to lift his hand up to his com, fingers dropping, numb, as soon as he had pressed the button. The first time he tried to speak the words were lost in the gurgle of blood that welled up between his lips and he spat it out before trying again. It felt like one lung was collapsing, filling with blood as breathing became more and more difficult. 

Huh. 

That was a strange thing to be able to feel. 

His breaths were taking on a sickening wet quality, his chest stuttering with the effort of drawing air into his lungs. He sounded like Steve, he realized suddenly, last winter when they hadn’t been able to afford Steve’s medicine and the cough had settled into his lungs, turning into a bout of pneumonia that they thought he wouldn’t survive. When it sounded like he was drowning on dry land, in the safety of his bed in their small apartment. When every breath was a fight and Bucky had called for the priest, sobbing in the corner while the old man delivered Steve’s last rites for the third time in his life.

An explosion rocked the ground, snapping Bucky back into the present. He shook his head, trying to clear it. That hadn’t been last winter, that had been seventy-six years and a war ago. Steve was somewhere here, with him, fighting and saving people. He licked his lips, and this time when he attempted to speak, he managed to actually make sounds.

“Steve?” But his voice was still to quiet, so he cleared his throat, spitting out some more blood and trying again, “Steve?” He said again, and that was better, that was stronger. There was a pause before Steve replied, voice distant and tinny down the comm. 

“Hey Buck,” his voice was breathy, probably still fighting as he spoke to Bucky, but it warmed Bucky through to his core anyways, “I’m a bit busy right now, do you need back up?” Bucky shook his head even though Steve wouldn’t be able to see him. He didn’t need backup.

“Steve,” he repeated. 

“Yeah Buck?” Steve’s voice was tinged with exasperation and fondness in equal measure, and Bucky could just make out the sound of Steve’s shield hitting something solid. 

“Steve,” he said again. Steve needed to concentrate on fighting he knew, he wouldn’t keep him long, but this was important, this needed saying. “Steve, I lo-”

The ground shook again, and suddenly Iron Man was on the line, swearing and asking to Steve to get to the bank on 7th, quick. The chaos spilling down the comm distracted Bucky for a long moment, caught up in the sounds of battle and his teammate’s voices calling out to each other. He needed to tell Steve, needed him to know… but there was blood soaking his pants and he couldn’t feel it and everything was becoming sharp and fuzzy and there were black spots blooming across his vision. He could feel blood welling up in his throat but he couldn’t make his muscles work to clear it out anymore, could feel it sputtering out of his mouth as he tried to speak one more time, but he had no air left with which to form words. There was blood running down his chin and he couldn’t feel anything and he couldn’t see anything, world gone black and soundless. 

So he let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131464568013/person-a-of-your-otp-is-in-a-horrible-accident-and)
> 
> please send me something happy I'm so sad after writing this


	7. The Archer (Clint Barton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whereintheworldisbuckybarnes asked:  
> I'm trying to think of something happy now. Avengers find a kid? Avengers defend Natasha against sexist reporters (or sit back to watch her defend herself)? A little kid couldn't care less about like Steve and Tony but is obsessed with the "less popular" Avengers?
> 
> (I went with the third option)

Abyan peered around her mother’s legs, her small statue allowing her to easily look under the barricade at the milling group of police and superheroes on the other side. 

“Mum,” she hissed, tugging at her mother’s long skirt, “Hooyo.”

“What Abyan?” Her mother asked, looking down at her daughter in exasperation. The small girl was was now excitedly pointing at the man standing nearest them. 

“It’s him!” Her mother looked up, taking in the short blond man wearing sweatpants and a purple tee-shirt that stood in front of them, barefoot and cradling a bow. 

“Him?” She asked, dubious. 

“Yes!” Her daughter squealed excitedly. “It’s Hawkeye!” Her mother ran her eyes up and down the man again, taking in the coffee stains on his shirt, the bandages scattered across his arms and face, the way he was shifting uncomfortably on his bare feet. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyebrow raised in doubt. Her daughter pulled on her skirt again, glaring up at her mother, and Maryan raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay,” she said. Really, she should trust Abyan when she said it was Hawkeye, if anyone would know it would be her daughter, whose walls were covered with Hawkeye posters and who had gotten Maryan to help her make a Hawkeye t-shirt when they hadn’t been able to find one in the store. 

“Hi Hawkeye!” Abyan called out, waving wildly, and the blonde man looked over at them, grinning when he spotted Abyan. He came closer to the barricade, crouching down and sticking out a hand. 

“Hey there, I’m Clint. What’s your name?” Abyan shook his hand, face solemn, and Maryan couldn’t help but smile at the seriousness that had suddenly overtaken her daughter. 

“I’m Abyan and this is my Hooyo,” Clint glanced up at Maryan, smiling and nodding at her. 

“Well it’s very nice to meet you both,” he said, “Sorry it’s just me here now, Iron Man-” but Abyan cut him off before he could continue. 

“I don’t care about him!” She said, and Maryan nudged her daughter. 

“Abyan!” She hissed, “manners!” But Abyan just looked up at her mother, face set in a stubborn pout. 

“But Mum, I don’t!” She turned back to Hawkeye, “You’re my favourite! I’ve got all your posters and I made my own t-shirt because the stupid store didn’t have any of you.” She confessed, and the man looked surprised. 

“Seriously?” He said, a grin spreading across his face. Abyan nodded solemnly. 

“Yeah. Darwiish says that Captain America is the best but I think you are.” The man glanced up at Maryan, a slightly confused look in his eyes.

“Her big brother,” Maryan explained, and he looked back at her daughter.

“Well Cap _is_ pretty cool,” he said. Abyan shook her head.

“He’s boring!” She declared, and Clint looked absolutely delighted, “He’s got all his super strength and stuff, but you’re just awesome all on your own!” Maryan was amused to see that Clint was now blushing slightly.

“Oh, well, thats…” he rubbed the back of his neck, visibly searching for words but Abyan wasn’t done. 

“And you’ve got hearing aids like my best friend, Koneko. She’s teaching me sign language.” She glanced up at her mother and then lowered her voice, leaning towards Clint, “We use it to talk in class,” she whispered, and Maryan rolled her eyes. Clint laughed, then Abyan was off again. 

“Plus the bow is the coolest weapon ever. Darwiish says that Iron Man’s repulser beams are cooler but he’s wrong. I got to do archery at summer camp last year and it was super hard so you must be really good at math and super strong to be such a good archer. My Aabo says that next year if my grades are good in school he’ll sign me up for archery classes so I can keep learning how to shoot bows and arrows so one day I can maybe be as good as you, but probably not actually as good as you because you’re the best in the whole world,” Abyan finally paused for breath, taking in a deep gulp of air. Clint looked totally thrilled while Maryan was just thankful he was taking her daughter’s exuberance with such good humour. He glanced down at the bow in his hands, then held it out to his daughter. 

“Here,” he said, “it’s too big for you now, but you’ll grow into it.” Abyan slowly reached out, taking the bow with an expression of stunned reverence. Maryan’s concern over a strange man, even if he was a superhero, handing her daughter a weapon was tempered by the look of awe on her daughters face. 

“You’re giving me your bow?” She whispered, stunned, and Clint nodded, reaching over and resting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Use it wisely,” he said solemnly, “I’m trusting you with the reputation of Hawkeye, defender of stray dogs and planet Earth.” Abyan nodded vigorously, eyes wide, stunned into silence. Clint stood, smiled at Maryan, and wandered off. Abyan turned to look up at her mother, holding the bow gently as if she was afraid she’d break it. 

“Hawkeye gave me his bow,” she said, and Maryan smiled down at her daughter. 

“Yeah, he did,” She said, then whispered to herself, “And Insha'Allah you won’t shoot us all with it.”

“Best. Day. Ever.” Abyan said, voice stunned as her eyes welled with tears. Maryan shook her head fondly, gripping her daughter by the shoulder and guiding her towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131507587353/im-trying-to-think-of-something-happy-now)


	8. The End of the Line Part II (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaenelle on Chapter 6:
> 
> Would love to see the scene after the battle is finished when Steve realises he hasn't heard from Bucky since this interrupted conversation and then finds him and realises that Bucky had been dying and he'd not even noticed or let him finish his last words - you know, because apparently I'd like the remaining fragments of my broken heart to be completely ground to dust. Any chance of seeing that scene?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all asked for it. 
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH**
> 
>  
> 
> no happy ending

“Steve?” Bucky's voice was barely audible over the sounds of the battle surrounding Steve. Steve was currently cornered by three large green... things. Aliens? Maybe? Anyways, he was cornered and it was getting pretty tight with the three creatures baring down on him. 

“Hey Buck,” he replied anyways, voice breathy with exertion as he swung his shield at the creature nearest him, “I’m a bit busy right now, do you need back up?” There was a pause, before Bucky's voice came back over the comm line, slightly fainter this time. 

“Steve,” he repeated. Steve frowned. Bucky normally got right to the point, efficient to a fault in battle. He ducked an attack from the largest creature, using his shield to shove it into one of its fellows before replying.

“Yeah Buck?” His voice was tinged with exasperation and fondness in equal measure as he threw the shield again. 

“Steve,” he said again, and honestly, Bucky needed to get to the point because-

The ground shook again, and suddenly Tony was on the line, swearing and asking to Steve to get to the bank on 7th, quick. Steve redoubled his efforts to get away from the two remaining creatures, not noticing Bucky hadn't responded again until hours later, standing in the remains of a bank with the rest of the Avengers. They were recounting the battle, congratulating each other on a fight successfully won, Thor and Clint laughing over some crazy stunt they had pulled. Steve, standing in the middle of them all, looked around the group, frowning when he saw that Bucky wasn't there. 

"Buck?" he said, tapping his comm. There was no response, and he pulled it out of his ear to make sure it was still working, putting it back in when he saw the green light. "Bucky?" He repeated, but there was nothing but static. He looked around at his team. "Hey, has anyone seen Bucky." Head shakes and blank faces were the only responses, and his frown deepened as a sick sense of wrong began to bloom in his stomach. 

"Tony," he said, voice tense, "Where does Bucky's GPS put him?" Tony took a moment to look at his screens. 

"Two blocks from here Cap." Steve didn't wait any longer before taking off, running around the rubble. The rest of the Avengers exchanged looks before following after him. They caught up with him when he stopped, two blocks away and frantically looking around at the destroyed street.

"Buck?" He shouted, "Bucky! Where are you?" The corner was deserted, silent except for Steve's increasingly desperate shouts. That sick feeling in his stomach was growing and he needed to find Bucky, needed to make sure he was okay, see his face, hear his familiar voice telling Steve off for taking stupid risks, for getting separated from him...

"He's over there," Tony pointed, consulting the GPS again. Steve took off towards the pile of rubble Tony had indicated, rounding it to see...

"No," he said, freezing at the sight that greeted him. His eyes travelled over the broken body in front of him, somehow taking in everything even as he felt his entire body go numb, veins replaced with ice. Bucky was slumped in a pool of blood, being held up by the beam protruding cruelly from his chest, though his head was slumped forward, long hair, escaped from its bun, obscuring his face. He hated it when his hair got in his face in a fight, Steve thought distantly. He'd be so annoyed he couldn't see properly. He faintly heard Tony's swear from behind him, Clint's gasp, Natasha's soft 'oh Bucky' but he didn't really register them, walking forward in a daze. 

Bucky was covered in blood, his black uniform soaked with it. Steve gently cupped his hands around Bucky's jaw, tilting his head back. His chin and mouth were covered in blood, and his eyes were clouded over as they stared blankly back at Steve. His skin was cold. _Oh god, his skin was cold_. Steve could feel himself begin to shake but it was still distant, barely registering as he let go of Bucky's head, flinching at the way it fell back down with a limp thud. He ran his hands down his shoulders.

"I-" he cleared his throat roughly, "We need to get him down. We need to get him down we can't just leave him..." 

"Cap," Tony's voice was soft and tentative and he hated it, he hated it, Tony was loud and annoying and why was he talking to Steve like that, like he was made of glass. 

"We need to get him down," his voice broke as he began to tug at Bucky's shoulders, "Why won't you help me? What's wrong with you? He's hurt, we... we need to..." He trailed off at the soft touch of Bruce's hands against his shoulders, pulling him back.

"It's okay Steve, Tony and Natasha've got it," he nodded over Steve's shoulder, turning him away slightly but it didn't stop Steve from hearing the horrible wet noise when Natasha and Tony pulled Bucky off of the beam, laying him down on the ground. Steve was instantly at his side, running his hands over his arms, his shoulders, his face, not noticing the way his own hands were now covered in Bucky's blood until he accidentally got some on Bucky's face. 

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, resolutely keeping his eyes away from the tangle mess of blood and organs and snapped ribs that was now Bucky's torso. "Hey, hey Buck," he said, voice breaking, "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you on the comms earlier." Someone let out a choked noise behind him, but he kept his eyes on Bucky's face, eyes open and empty, skin smeared with blood and dust and soot. "I'm sorry you were alone, I'm sorry I wasn't here, that I didn't listen..."

"It's going to be okay," he said, distantly registering something hot and wet running down his face, "Hey Buck, it's going to be okay, you hear me? It's going to be okay-" his voice broke again, and he took a deep shaky breath before continuing, "it's going to be okay, because it has to be okay. We've survived everything Buck, Hydra and ice and seventy years apart but it's me and you till the end of the line Bucky," he was speaking through sobs now, but he kept going because he couldn't not, because it was _Bucky_.

"I love you Buck, I love you so much and I'm so sorry I never told you. I know you didn't feel that way about me but I still should have told you because... because you deserved it," he sobbed, "you deserved to know how much you mean to me, you're my whole world James Buchanan Barnes and I love you so much, please baby please..." he didn't know when he'd pulled Bucky's head into his lap, started stroking his hair, starting rocking back and forth. He couldn't look at the other Avengers, at his team, standing around him and watching in silent horror. 

"Please baby you can't leave me, you can't, you promised, me and you till the end remember? I love you please please don't do this, I don't know what to do without you, I don't know how to exist in this future without you. Please baby I love you I love you Buck please-" his words were choked off with a harsh sob and then he couldn't speak anymore, too busy gasping in breath and crying, screaming and still rocking, back and forth, back and forth.

And Bucky's eyes continued staring blankly upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131554249553/person-a-of-your-otp-is-in-a-horrible-accident-and)


	9. The Ball Pit (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> imcaptaindorito asked:  
> "stucky having a kid and losing said kid in a ball pit" prompt

“Steve?” Bucky tried to keep his voice calm, but somehow seventy years of training and conditioning wasn’t a match for the panic beginning to well up within him. His eyes flicked up briefly, glancing to where Steve was standing across the room from him, apparently not having heard him. 

“Steve?” Bucky repeated, not moving his eyes away from the massive pool filled with colourful balls. He heard his partner moving towards him from across the room, his large presence warm at Bucky’s side as he came to a stop next to him. 

“Whats up Buck?” Steve said, voice tinged with concern. Bucky pointed at the pool wordlessly. Steve looked over, confused. 

“Um…” he said, looking back at Bucky. 

“I can’t find Issi,” Bucky confessed, and Steve suddenly looked much more alarmed as he turned back to the pool of balls.

“She’s in there?” He asked, and Bucky nodded. 

“She jumped in and then she was just… gone.” 

“Oh my god,” Steve said, eyes widening. He vaulted in, beginning to dig through the balls, shouting their daughter’s name. The other Avengers wandered over at the commotion, watching in amusement as Steve threw brightly colour balls everywhere as he frantically dug around the pit. The ever-shifting lake of balls were rendering Steve’s attempt to search in a grid utterly useless. 

“What the fuck is Rogers doing?” Tony asked, stopping next to Bucky. Bucky reached over, smacking his shoulder without looking away from his partner’s struggles. 

“He’s looking for Issi,” Bucky explained. 

“You lost your daughter in a ball pit?” Tony asked, the smirk on his face audible. Bucky shrugged. 

“You lost your pink lamborghini in the Ikea parking lot,” Bucky replied. 

“That was-”

“And a helicopter in Chicago.”

“Listen, Rhodey-”

“You left Pepper in Paris.” Tony’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut as he wisely decided to drop the subject. They watched as a wave of balls were thrown out of the pit. 

“Why are you so calm?” Tony asked as they watched Steve, blonde hair and eyes wide with panic turn in a circle in the middle of the pit. 

“Watching Steve freak out makes me calm down,” Bucky explained. It was true. His therapist thought it was because he preferred to remain emotionless, and having his partner emoting so strongly near him made it easier for him to ignore his own emotions. Bucky thought it was just a deeply ingrained response to a lifetime of having to be the calm presence in Steve’s chaotic life. Steve was now standing, hands clenched in his hair as he looked around. Natasha stepped into the pit, walking over to the far corner and bending over, standing back up with their daughter held in her hands. As soon as she was out of the balls, Issi began giggling wildly. Natasha turned, holding out the little girl towards Steve, who let out a massive sigh of relief, hurrying across the pit. 

“Isibéal Tehila Barnes don’t scare me like that!” Steve admonished, swinging the still-giggling little girl into his arms. He walked over to where Bucky was standing, handing her over to Bucky while he climbed out of the pit. Bucky bounced their daughter on his hip. 

“Now what’d you go and do that for,” Bucky asked, tapping his daughter on the nose with a metal finger. 

“Aunty Nat’s showing me how to hide,” she said, smiling up at her father. Bucky turned to Natasha, who just raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” she said, “It’s not like we’re doing weapons training. That doesn’t start until she’s seven, right mysh?” The little girl nodded solely at her aunt, and both Steve and Bucky rolled their eyes. 

“That girl is going to be a terror,” Tony said before wandering away.

Privately, Bucky couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Issi is named after Steve's Irish grandmother Isibéal and Bucky's Jewish grandmother Tehila.
> 
> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131582873263/stucky-having-a-kid-and-losing-said-kid-in-a-ball)


	10. In Sickness and In Health (Steve/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> I love your fluff ficlets so mini prompt: "Person A breaks their arm really badly and Person B mother hens them" (Stucky ^_^)

The cast went from his wrist to his armpit and was so fucking uncomfortable Bucky thought he was going to loose his mind with it. Admittedly, thanks to the modified version of the serum running through his veins, he was only going to have to wear it for a third of a time of a normal person. Still, it itched, and he swore he could feel the pins that the doctors had had to use to hold his bones together shifting under his skin. He’d asked the doctors if his body wouldn’t just force them out the way it did bullets, and had been offered a very reassuring shrug and ‘who knows’. 

So there was always the possibility that they were just going to randomly shoot out of his arm at some point. 

Fun.

Still, even though it had been a really bad break, and even though the cast was pissing Bucky the fuck off, he had to admit that the worst part of the whole ordeal had been Steve’s reaction to it. Maybe it was just because Bucky hadn’t ever really got sick as a kid, maybe it was because back then, the severity of Steve’s illnesses tended to overshadow anything that happened to Bucky, or maybe it was the fact that they had just finally gotten each other back after seventy years and two matching empty graves. So Bucky could understand it, really, why Steve would be so protective of him now that they were finally back together, why he would be so wary of anything that might pull them apart. 

But seriously. It was a fucking broken arm. 

“Do you need anymore pillows Buck?” Steve asked, hovering, a mug of tea in one hand and a blanket in the other, looking anxiously down at his partner who had settled into a sulky ball in the corner of the couch, glaring at the episode of the X-Files that was playing (damn, but Bucky loved Scully. Mulder was an idiot who didn’t deserve her, that was for sure). 

“No,” he repeated for the billionth time, resolutely not looking up to see whatever version of the puppy-dog face Steve was giving him this time. 

“Okay Buck,’ Steve said, “how about food? You hungry? Oooooh, Sam gave me this recipe for apple pie, I could make that and-”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, finally looking up at his partner, who looked back at him with wide, sincere eyes. 

“Yeah Buck?” 

“I love you doll, I really do, but if you don’t sit down and shut up right now, I am not having sex with you ever again.” Shock, affront, and annoyance slid over Steve’s face before settling into fond amusement as he sank onto the couch next to Bucky.

“Okay Buck,” he said as he put an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, “whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://stevesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/post/131586089633/i-love-your-fluff-ficlets-so-mini-prompt-person)


End file.
